Dysfunctional Families
by TheDawnCatcher
Summary: When Roderick decides to cheer up lil Ciano, the whole town goes hay-wire! Psychotic rich folks with family issues gather together for a party that will live on for generations. AU, with all Human names, and very random moments of nautical nonsense.
1. We Need to Do Something for Ciano

**Warning: This is what happens when you marry my writing prowess to my sister's comedic passion. There will be references to other things, nautical nonsense, epic scenes of childish violence, personified countries being married to one another, gay relations, minor language, and all around randomness. Enjoy...**

**W**_e_** N**_eed__** t**o** d**o _**S**_omething_** f**_or_** C**_iano_

* * *

It was another, boring, mid-afternoon, summer's day at our favorite Austrian's household. The sound of a beautiful Mozart masterpiece could be heard resonating through the spacious mansion. Little Ciano peeked around the corner, smiling to himself. He loved it when Roderick played the piano. It was beautiful, everything was so calm, and Roderick wasn't grinding him under the heel of his boot… But there was something off today.

Suddenly there was a resounding clang, and Feliciano swore he could hear the piano stings twanging. Yup. Something was definitely off. He usually he kicked the stool before beating his beloved piano.

Roderick sighed, running his hand through his hair, adjusting his glasses. He didn't know what it was lately, but… Where was that Hungarian when you needed her? The sound of hooves outside answered his silent plea.

"And don't you ever show your face around here again!" God. Between the perverted Prussian and that lusty Frenchman, she was _never_ going to get the gardening done. Still, there was something thrilling about chasing the light haired lechers on horse-back, brandishing her frying pan like a battle-ax.

All in a day's work for our favorite Hungarian.

Wait! Her Austrian senses were tingling. "Roderick!" Elizaveta nudged the horse around, trotting to meet her normally stoic husband. "Roderick, dear, you don't look well. You aren't ill, are you?" She asked, leaning down to place her hand against his forehead.

"I'm fine." He assured her, brushing her hand aside. "It's just… It's Feliciano I'm worried about." He admitted reluctantly.

They both glanced over to their charge, who, at the moment, was being chased by a butterfly in the garden, screaming, "HELP! It's vicious!"

"Moron."

Elizaveta gave him a light slap, which knocked Roderick into the grass. "Don't talk about our child that way!"

Elizaveta turned towards Feliciano again to see him pinned against a tree, cowering in fear, with the butterfly on his nose. "It's gonna _eat_ me!"

"…Well, you may have a point." She relented, "But what can we do? There's nothing that can cure stupid."

"That's not what's worrying me. I've learned to accept her… peculiarities." Roderick lifted himself up, lightly rubbing at his bruising cheek. "It's just that he's been different since the Ludwig left to live with Gilbert. Depressed, somehow." He brushed dirt off his delicately bordered sleeves. "She needs children. Kids her own age to run around and socialize with."

Elizaveta stared at her husband blankly for a moment. Then it suddenly dawned on her. "_**We can throw a party!**_" She cried triumphantly, rearing back on her trusty stead and, once again, knocking the poor Austrian to the ground.

"A party?" Feliciano shouted upon hearing the one of the dreaded 'p words,' forgetting his fear of butterflies and dancing over to his two parent figures. "A party, a party~! We're having a party, right? Can there be pasta at the party? Pasta would be great! _Please_, can we have pasta at the party, Mama~? Pizza would be nice too~." He chanted, bouncing on Roderick's chest.

"Yes, of course we can, sweetie. I'll go write the invitations!"

"Yaaaaaaay~!"

…What had he done?

* * *

"Oh, come on _mon cher!_"

"No, you bloody frog." England sneered at his fellow blond. "And stop speaking that disgusting language around the children. You'll poison their minds." Said children were hiding just above them on the staircase. Alfred could barely hold in his sniggering, Angelique was trying to push him down the stairs, just to see if he'd crack up at the bottom. Matthew was staying as far away from them as possible, and Li had to pull back Peter, who was craning between the bars for a better look.

"I'm surprised they haven't died from food poisoning with the way you cook, _mon Anglais_!" Francis winced at the crushed look that passed over Arthur's face, but was saved from having to brave a torrent of half-broken curses by the annoyed voice on the end on the phone.

"He declines, I take it?"

Francis shifted the phone so that I better tucked against his shoulder. "Oh no, we're going, even if I have to drag him by his eyebrows." Poor Angelique was in tears, giggling, and nearly tripped down the stairs before Li caught her.

England shot a glare up at them before turning it on his _dear fiancé_. "I said no, and that's final."

"Oh, come on. The kids will love it."

"Yeah, we'll love it!"

"Alright, that's it!" Arthur exploded, "Everyone! Couch! Now!" You knew Arthur was mad when his sentences fragmented. Al and Angel groaned, but they still followed Matthew down the stairs. Peter tried to walk the other way, but not before Li grabbed him by the collar, lifting him up and carrying him to the couch like a naughty cub. "How many times have we told you not to eavesdrop on Daddy and Papa's conversations?" He fumed.

"Only a thousand times," Matthew answered, "Maybe more."

"But they're not even real 'conversations', are they?" Angelique interjected.

Al laughed, "Yeah! It's more like, '_Don't_ you use that tone of voice with me!" He switched to a botched French accent, "'I'm only yelling 'cause you're yelling!" Back to Dad, "_**'I'm not yelling!**_'" Even Mattie and Papa had to crack at that.

Back to our favorite Austrian, "Oh, please, feel free to say no." He could only be so lucky. …Or perhaps not. Nearly everyone shouted – "_**We're going!**_" – more or less causing his ears to bleed. Feliciano held up a bandage.

"We are not going, and that is final!" Arthur stamped his foot, "I've spent all day slaving over a hot stove to prepare a fantastic dinner for tonight, and you're going to **love** it!" A look of horror passed over the family.

Roderick sighed and glanced down at a tearful Ciano, who'd tugged on his sleeve. "Th- They're not coming?" ...Roderick gripped the phone tightly, biting his lip. This was for little Ciano. If they did this for Feliciano…

"Francis, hand the phone over to Arthur." Francis hesitantly obeyed, passing the phone over to his raging _amour_. Arthur snatched it from his hand with an irritated '_wot?_' "Arthur. You can cater."

A moment of silence, please. One. Two. Three. "We're going!" Arthur tossed the phone back to Francis and dashed to the kitchen. "Pack your bag, crickie, we're going on a field trip!"

An excited chorus of - "Hooray!" – rose from the children, except for Li, who simply lifted his hands in the air with a soft "Woot."

Francis put the phone back to his ear with an appalled expression. "Roderick, what, exactly, did you tell him."

"Don't worry, we'll have pizza and pasta in the other room."

* * *

**Poor, poor France, having to deal with his cher's general pissyness. Angelique is Seychelles and Li is Hong Kong, just so you know. Reviews are appreciated, and ideas for new materials are loved.**

**France says:**

**_amour_ - love**

**_fiance _- they're engaged**

**_mon cher _- my dear**

**_mon Anglais_ - my Englishman**


	2. I'm Really Regretting This

**Same warnings stand as before, and this time a disclaimer as well! I don't own anything. Not Hetalia or any of the countries, which is really a shame.  
**

**I**_'m_** R**_eally_** R**_egretting_** T**_his..._

* * *

Roderick finally set the phone down, running a hand over his face before turning to Feli with a small smile. "They're coming."

"Yaaaaaaaaaa~y!" Ciano cheered.

Elizaveta glanced between them, wondering just what it was Roderick agreed to, before catching Feliciano mid-pirouette. "Ciano, honey, why don't you go down to Antonio's house?" Her smile grew with little Feliciano's confused look. "You wouldn't want to leave your brother out, would you?"

"Okay!" Feliciano grinned, skipping down the hall. He knew the way, so Elizaveta wouldn't have to worry about him getting lost. Well, there was that, and the homing chip she implanted in his ear.

So, now that little Feli was out of the way… "So, Rickky," She casually strolled over to Roderich, lightly trailing her fingers across his back. He froze, a deer caught in headlights, as her arm slipped over his shoulders. "What, _exactly_, did you agree to?"

"Uhmn, ah- Well, Arthur's catering." A shadow of doom passed over his wife's face, and he quickly turned around to reassure her. "It's alright; we're not going to die. We'll have pizza and pasta in the other room, and maybe Yao's family will bring something with them. You know how Asians are with house-gifts."

Elizaveta released a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "You are going to bring them, aren't you?"

"Of course, I'll call them right now." Roderich was just glad Elizaveta wasn't in killing mode anymore, although… "There's something I need you to do." Be brave Roderich, be brave. "I need you to go invite Ludwig."

"Okay."

"…You do realize that means inviting Gilbert, don't you?"

Elizaveta seemed to be frozen. An eyebrow twitched. "Okay."

"Okay then… I'm going to call Yao. …Alright?"

"Okay." Elizaveta chuckled slightly, stalking out of the room. Her infamous frying pan mysteriously appearing in hand. Roderick did not envy his brother…

* * *

Feliciano strolled down the countryside, whistling a happy tune to himself. Daddy was having a party! He didn't really quite get why, but there was pasta! Pizza and pasta, so he was good. Plus his big brother Romano and uncle Francis were coming to see him! Ah, it'd been ages….

"La, la, la… La, la, la, laa-_**aah!**_" Feli found himself face first it the dirt. When he lifted his head, his eyes found whiskers, orange fur, and yellow slitted eyes. **A Tiger!** "Wa~h!" Feliciano nearly flew backwards, but the tiger pounced on him and started licking his cheek. "Gah! What is this? It's mutiny, mutiny I tell ya!" The tiger meowed, causing Feliciano to halt his flailing arms. Oh. "Ah, you're just a cute lil' kitty-cat! Purr, purr!" He grinned, stroking the cat's tabby fur.

"So, what should we call him?"

"Mrs. Fluffy-Butters," came a calm, collected voice.

"Ah, Mrs. Fluffy-Butters sounds like a good na-_**aaah!**_" Feliciano jumped, holding the cat up as a meat-shield. "Don't hurt me! I'm just a tomato-box fairy!" He cried, "I-I'll grant you a w-wish if you don't hurt me!"

The cat meowed in distress. The young boy who so dubbed it Mrs. Fluffy-Butters knelt down and took him from Feliciano, cradling it in the crook of his arm. Another boy wearing a ghutra was clinging to the older, dark-skinned man beside him. The older man let out a loud guffaw. "Tomato-box fairy, huh? You wouldn't happen to be Arthur's kid, would ya?"

"N-No." Feli stuttered. He wasn't, but… "You know uncle Arthur?"

He couldn't stop laughing. "_Ha, ha!_ Ah-ha, ha… Ah… _High school_."

"...Did you even finish high school?" The boy with the cat gave the older man a strange look. He shook his head and held out a hand to the poor redhead in the dirt. "It's good to see you, Feliciano." He-He knew his name. …Wait, well, he did look familiar…

Feliciano gasped. "Heracles? Is that really you?" Feli didn't really know much about big brother Greece, but he'd seen him around. Usually with a legion of cats following him. And… Ah! There they are! Rising over the horizon! "It really is you!" Ciano smiled and tackled his legs, nearly knocking him over.

"What are you doing so far away from home, little tyke?"

Feli looked up at the scary man, burying his face in big brother Heracles's knees. "Daddy told me to go get my big brother Romano for the party tomorrow. You can come too! I think… I don't think Daddy Roderich would mind." He grinned brightly, "More the merrier, right?"

…Daddy… Roderich? "You're old man wouldn't happen to be a pansy piano player, would he?"

"You met him?"

Oh, God, that was too much! "Sure, me 'n ol Roddy go way back!" The man started laughing again, and the two younger boys with him backed away slowly. "Ah, no worries, kid. You sure you don't need us to come along with ya, wherever you're going?"

Feliciano quickly shook his head. "No, I'm good." He reached up to pet Mrs. Fluffy-Butters again. ""You're coming, right?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world..." Heracles smiled down at him before grabbing the other boy's wrist, "Come on, Gupta... let's go."

And so, with a wave and a wink, and Bob's your uncle, Feliciano continued on to Antonio's house.

* * *

"Water balloons to station three! Dive, dive, dive!"

"I _told _you, I just want to talk!"

"Ludwig, _where_ are the ketchup balloons I ordered?"

"I can only fill them up so fast!"

Elizaveta **really** wasn't in the mood for this. Balloons of death were deflected by her frying pan of righteousness. Ducking and covering, Elizaveta dodged behind one of the great trees in Gilbert's front lawn. That damnable German just had to make his home a great big honking fort, now didn't he? Well, fort just wasn't the word, was it? It was more like a giant, well-fortified tree house with the actual mansion just behind it.

"Yes, a direct hit!" A direct what now?

Elizaveta reached up, feeling a cold thickness trailing down the side of her nose. Blood? The thickness continued to trail down near her mouth. Her tongue flicked out to catch a little.

Nope. Ketchup.

This meant war.

Elizaveta dashed out of her cover among the trees, deflecting balloons as she went. More shouting and… There! She smacked one with the side of her pan, sending it flying straight back to them.

"I'm hit!" Ludwig clutched his chest, the white shirt stained red, as he fell to the floor.

"_Nien_!" Gilbert cried, running to his brother's side. "Don't go into the light, _kleinen Bruder_!"

In the meantime, Elizaveta, now no longer being besieged by balloons of various sorts, dashed up the side of the mansion wall and leaped up into the tree house, landing with a 'ka'thump' in front of the two German brothers. There, she wasted no time in smacking the albino brother upside the head with her dirtied weapon.

"Ow!" Gilbert glowered at her, running a hand through his head. He paused, taking it away and staring at it with a look of horror. "That'll take hours to wash out!"

"Well if you would've shut up for five seconds, none of this would've happened! I'd have gotten what I wanted and been long gone by now."

"Oh, I _knew_ what you wanted!" Gilbert sneered, still clutching his throbbing head, "My awesome self knew exactly what, and we're _so_ not gonna give it to ya, Devil-woman!"

"Oh, really?" Elizaveta crossed her arms over her chest, "Then what **do** I want?"

Gilbert gaped up at her, mouth gobbing like a fish. "I… Dah- uhm…. Ah, Ludwig!" He turned to his still seemingly-unconscious brother, "Tell the She-Devil what she wants."

Ludwig blinked open his eyes, glanced between them… glanced down at his red shirt… and held his hand up. "Ketchup?"

Elizaveta face-palmed. _If only Antonio was here_… She shot Gilbert a nasty glare. "_**What**_ have you _done _to him? He used to be such a good boy."

"How I raise my younger _bruder_ is none of your concern." Gilbert said in what could only be a parody of maturity. "Now, why don't you just tell us what you want?" He paused, logic catching up with him. "Uh… But I already know what you want, so telling me would just be a waist of your time." He puffed out his chest proudly. "Chalk one up for awesome me, Ludwig!"

Ludwig saluted, pushing himself to his feet and walking inside the actual 'fort.' Elizaveta followed him with a perplexed look. In the corner there was a giant chalkboard, one side filled with thousands of chalk marks and a little drawing of a woman with horns. The one that Ludwig marked had- what? Three dashes? "That's a new record, Gil."

"Really? Is that supposed to be me?" She pointed at the 'she-Devil' picture. Lizaveta walked up to the board, looking down in the corner to see just how many she had. "Huh. I have nine thousand."

"_N__ien_! There's no way you've got that many!" Gilbert pushed passed her, trying to count them all up. No way… Sure, he hadn't been looking at the board lately – it was too painful- but this was just… So not awesome. "Heh. Well, no matter how many you've got now, you'll never get another, because I! The awesome, fantastic Gilbert, has declared it so!"

"Hey, Gil. Your shoelace is untied."

"Oh, really?" Elizaveta rammed the frying pan into his gut.

Ludwig stared at the two for a second, Gilbert wallowing on the ground in pain, Elizaveta victoriously grinding her foot into his stomach, before chalking up another win for the Hungarian. "…Oh _mien Got_! Gilbert, her PMS level is over nine thousand!"

"_**Was?"**_

"Morons…"

* * *

**I love Hungary. Everything she does is epic.  
**

**Germany says:**

**_Was_ - What**

**_Mein Got _- My God**

**_Nien_ - NO!**

**_kleinen Bruder - _little brother**


	3. The Families Just Keep on Growing

**Sorry for the delay, everyone. The writing and comedic genius have been divorced, so to say, so it took me this long to pick back up where we left off. Nevertheless! The show... _must_ go on. **

**T**_he _**F**_amily _**J**_ust _**K**_eeps _**o**_n _**G**_rowing..._

* * *

Wang Yao held a small cup way away behind him, busily arranging a meal. "Mei, pass me the sauce, aru!"

"_Shì de_!" A young girl's voice called out. Soy sauce flew through the air and landed in the cup.

"Kiku, how's the _Lāmiàn_ coming along, aru?"

The boy 'tisk-ed,' stirring a gianormous bowl inset in the island-counter with a huge ladle. "The _ramen_ is almost ready to be served, Wang-san."

Yao looked affronted. "Don't call me 'Wang-san,' like you don't know me, aru! Who's raised you since you were _Xi__ǎ__o_ Kiku? **I** have, aru!" He walked over to the outer counter, setting down some Bao buns, Ngohiong, and a dish of Peking chicken. "Order up!" He rang the bell and young Anh ran up, shooting him a glare before leaving to serve. What had he done wrong by that girl? Yao frowned to himself and went over to Kiku, taking the ladle from him. "Anyways, let me take care of that," something whizzed past his ear, "And take those knives away from Yong-Soo before he _kills us all_, aru!"

Yao's other boy was chopping up vegetables with blinding speed, grinning like a maniac. "Hibachi was created in Korea, ya know!"

"_Give. Me. That_." Kiku swiped the knives from him, cleaning them off and exchanging one for a spatula, "Let an old _pro _show you how it's done." And then the spatula was flying. It flipped, it flashed, it whirled, it spun off the counter with a clang right back into his hand. He tossed it over his shoulder and caught it behind his back. Kiku took a few eggs and juggled them, tossing two in the air and catching them with the edge of the knife, cutting the eggs in half while spinning the other on the spatula.

His youngest, Mei, hid a smile behind her little pink fan. Kiku was just as much a show-off as Yong-Soo, no matter what he said. She glanced over at her 'father-brother' figure with a small leer. "So… _Why _are we here again, _l__ǎ__o_ Wáng?"

"Because_ both _sets of staff have the day off, aru," he sighed, nursing a migraine. Plates crashed in the restaurant, Anh started shouting, and the phone chose this _wonderful_ moment to ring "I'll get it!" Yao abandoned the Lāmiàn to little Mei and ran to the other side of the room, catching it, and nestling the phone in the crook of his shoulder. "Chickety China, the Chinese Chicken. Put it in your mouth an' your brain starts click'n, aru. What'll you have?"

"…Chickety China, the Chinese Chicken?"

"Rodrich!" Yao jumped and nearly dropped the phone, bouncing it between his hands before putting it to his ear again. "Gah- ah, I mean! Aru, ah… What do you need?"He asked coolly.

"Yong-Soo came up with that?"

Yao glanced about guiltily. "…Yes?"

"Would have thought as much." Ah. Disaster avoided. "No matter, I need to call in a favor."

The Chinese man narrowed his eyes slightly. "What _kind _of favor, aru…? -Kiku, get the oil away from Yong-Soo!" He'd just made a hibachi-styled volcano, and was running around the kitchen with it on a spatula.

"You see, we are sort of hosting a party at our place and-"

Mei walked up to him and tugged on his sleeve, pointing to several bowls of _Lāmiàn_ on the counter. "Oh, just take those to Jaidee, _qiānjīn_, he'll know what to do with- Tömörbaatar! Leave the Shào jiǔ alone, aru!" The grizzled old man had snuck into the alcohol stores, and Lord knew what that man was like when drunk. "I'm sorry, Rodrich, please continue, aru."

"And Arthur's catering."

Yao was silent for a moment, a blank expression coming over his face. "I cleaned Arthur's kitchen once and there was a pot on the stove. When I took the lid off it growled at me, aru."

"So you see what my problem is?" A problem, indeed.

"One cannot refuse to eat just because there is a chance of dying, aru!" He was quite adamant on this point. "We'll be there, Rodrich, never fear." The Austrian thanked him and they both hung up. Yao walked over to the Mongolian with a quiet smile. "Tömörbaatar, I need you to do your _best _Genghis Khan impression for the guests, aru."

"…_Why?_"

Well, after that strange event, Feliciano made his way up the neat cobble-stone drive to the Carriedo home, 'oo-ing' and 'ah-ing' at all the pretty trees and flowers, all in bloom. When they finished the picnic at home, they should have one here. They could sit by the stream way over that way and make pasta, and he could make pretty little flower crowns, and necklaces, and broaches, and there'd be pasta…

Through all of his day-dreaming, Feli failed to notice the clatter and crashing that came clanging down through an open window, Senor Carriedo's voice rising above the noise."Ché! Faustino! I _told_ you not to play soccer in the house! Cierra, _cariño_, you know that'll stunt your growth. Philip, can't you do something about Armando? He's tracking mud into the house a- _No, Lovi, not there!_**"**

"**It's **_**your fault**_** for having such a huge house, **_**stronzo!**_**"** A little banging, and bashing, and a quick succession of bumps later, Antonio kicked the door open and stumbled over to a clump of bushes, holding a kicking and screaming Italian out and arm's length.

"_Ciao, fratello!_ Uncle Antonio!"

They froze. Antonio turned his head slowly with a bright grin plastered all over his face. "Feli! Good to see you!" Lovi growled something about letting go and pinched Antonio's wrist. His eyebrow twitched. "Ah, you just get cuter every time I see you~!"

Feliciano pouted up at him. "You don't look so good, Uncle Antonio…"

"_Si_, well…" The Spaniard chuckled and turned his wan grin to the open door of his usually peaceful manor. "Things have been really lively lately." A soccer ball flew into view and bounced between the door frame before launching back inside, followed by the crash of glass, laughter, and shouts of '**GOAAAL!**'

"What're you doin' here, anyways, jerk-wad?" Lovino scowled indignantly down at his little brother and crossed his arms, totally ignoring the new way some of the bush's leaves glistened.

Feliciano looked confused for a second before it dawned on him. "Oh, right! Papa's having a party at his house tomorrow, and you're invited! There'll be pasta, and pizza, and games, and pasta too!" Feli practically sparkled at the thought.

Antonio nearly jumped at the chance, but, "Well, not… everyone's invited, are they?" he asked nervously.

Feliciano thought about it for a while. "Mama only said Uncle and _fratello_… But if you want to, then-!"

"That's fine, that's fine!" He said quickly, setting Lovi down now that he was through with his business. "Rodrich wouldn't want us _all _clogging up his place!" What with his aunts, and uncles, and cousins, and his brother's family, and his cousin's second sister's twice removed family…

"Okay~!" Whatever Antonio decided to do was fine with him! "And you're coming too, right, _fratello_?" No response."_Fratello_? " A humph. Lakes welled up in his eyes and he sniffled. "_Lovino_, you _have _to come…!"

Antonio winced, knowing that tone. "Lovi, be nice to your _hermanito_," he warned, bracing himself for a screaming flood of Italian.

* * *

_Notes:_

**I never got over the fact that most of the countries never got to have their characters portrayed. I kinda just want to take the Animaniac's 'Countries of the World' song and draw all of the countries to it, but… so much research. Anyways! This is Antonio's house during the Family Reunion season! We won't get to see much of Latin America, but at least they're here. And a good portion of Asia, too.**

**China says:  
**

**_Shì de: _((I forgot. Something affirmative.))**

**_Lāmiàn: _Chinese ramen**

**_Xi__ǎ__o:_ small, young, little ((Like an endearment))**

**_L__ǎ__o: _old ((Used like Xiǎo, but more like Jr. vs Sr.))**

**_Qiānjīn: _darling (daughter/ 1000 gold)**


End file.
